by Karen Booth
His eyes narrowed as he silently studied her. Isabel bit her lip to stop herself from babbling out an apology for the infatuation he must’ve seen written all over her face, but his phone buzzed, interrupting his focus.
“If you have any questions, we can go over them tonight,” Isabel said, rushing to make the offer before she lost his attention once more. “I’ve arranged for a table at Overlook at eight.” Isabel barely paused for breath. Shane hadn’t yet answered his phone—his gaze hadn’t even drifted toward the demanding thing—and she was going to capitalize on every millisecond of his notice. “I’m really looking forward to our dinner.”
* * *
Heart hammering with uncharacteristic vigor, Shane Adams regarded the plucky redhead standing before him while his phone’s insistent buzz barely registered. Striving for detachment and finding it beyond his grasp, he surveyed Isabel’s flawless pale skin, the thick dark lashes framing her lively hazel eyes, and her lush mouth painted a rosy pink while her words replayed in his head.
I’ve arranged a table at Overlook at eight.
I’m really looking forward to our dinner.
Had she just asked him out?
Since Isabel Withers had joined Richmond Hotel Group, he’d noticed a disturbing tendency to become distracted whenever he visited The Opulence. With her russet hair and lively personality a beacon for his attention, he’d pinpointed her as the source of his agitation. But it wasn’t until midway through his first quarterly tour, when he caught himself trying to identify what about her perfume had caused him to lean forward and suck in a lungful of the lushly aromatic, sweet scent, that he realized what a danger she was to his disciplined professionalism.
“Ah—” Damn the woman. Her invitation left him gaping at her like an idiot. “I’m not sure my schedule—”
“Oh, don’t worry. I already checked with Sheila. She said you were booked into meetings all day, but that you were free after eight. That’s why I arranged for a table at Overlook then.”
“You spoke to my assistant?”
Shane imagined the glee with which Sheila had fielded that particular phone call. She was constantly harping on him to take a little time out of his schedule to date. Although he never did anything to fix the situation, Shane recognized the need for balance in his life. Working eighty hours a week might not have been a problem for him, but he recognized his staff didn’t have his endurance.
“Of course.” Isabel’s lips parted in a dazzling smile that made Shane’s head spin. “I check with her every time you visit so I can make sure all your needs are met.”
His needs?
Those two words sent sexual awareness rushing through him. He barely won the battle to keep his gaze from roaming down her slender frame, but that didn’t stop him from speculating about the sort of curves hidden beneath the hotel’s blue-and-gold uniform. Shane yanked his thoughts back under control. She was one of his employees. He couldn’t go there. Ever.
Shane made a mental note to set up a date in the near future with one of the women he saw from time to time. He’d obviously neglected his needs as the Richmond retreat drew near.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I do need to eat,” And it was a business dinner. Despite that momentary slip-up, he shouldn’t have trouble keeping things strictly professional. “We should discuss the specific arrangements for each of the VIPs arriving next week.”
Isabel nodded. “Actually, we have a meeting scheduled with Teresa tomorrow to go over those details. I have something else I’d like to discuss with you.”
Something of a business nature? Her expression gave him no clue, but nothing in the last year indicated she was anything other than a professional. With a sinking feeling, he realized his earlier flare of personal interest was leading him to question her motives.
“Can you give me a hint what that might be?”
“I’d rather surprise you.” She hit him with another bright smile, this time flavoring it with a dash of sly teasing. “I’d really appreciate if you’d come to dinner with an open mind.”
Against his better judgment, Shane found himself utterly intrigued. “Why would you think I’d do otherwise?”
Her eyebrows rose at his question. “You have very strong opinions about everything done at the resort.”
Although her measured tone and demeanor remained neutral, Shane recognized the point she was trying to make. He’d shown a heavy hand at The Opulence in the three years following Richmond Hotel Group’s management of the resort. The place had been a chaotic mess when they’d won the contract. By instituting strict rules for how everything was done, from folding towels to welcoming the guests, he’d whipped the operations into shape in record time.
The turnaround had been instrumental in boosting him into the presidency of the Richmond Hotel Group division of Richmond Enterprises. He was proud of how the division had flourished with him at the helm. Of course, as more properties had been added to their management portfolio, he’d focused his attention on getting the newer ones up to RHG standards, leaving the earliest properties to function without as much oversight. For most this had worked out well.
Normally Shane didn’t weigh in on staffing decisions at the hotel level, but he hadn’t liked some of the reports that had been coming out of The Opulence. Tom Busch had been hired by the area manager ten months earlier to act as the hotel’s executive manager, and the level of customer service had begun to drop.
The timing of this was not good with the fifth anniversary retreat for Richmond Enterprises taking place in less than two weeks. Everything needed to be running as smooth as glass. The smallest bump could have a catastrophic ripple effect.
“So, we’re having dinner to talk about the resort?” he asked.
The shock on her face, quickly masked, sent a flurry of curses winging through his mind. Had he really just admitted to her that he’d assumed her invitation had been personal rather than business?
She gnawed on her lower lip and avoided his gaze. A betraying flush raced up her throat and turned her cheeks bright pink. Shane noticed his own skin becoming hotter with each breath. What was it about Isabel that consistently threw him off balance?
An awkward, breathy laugh escaped her. “Of course. You didn’t think I was hitting on you, did you?”
“Well…no,” Shane replied, but his response lacked conviction. He cleared his throat, discomfort rendering him less judicious than usual.
“And if I was?” The smile she threw at him had cheeky undertones.
Attraction flared anew, tightening his gut. The unwelcome sensation continued to disturb him. “I always keep my business relationships strictly professional.”
“Of course,” she repeated, nodding vigorously. “And it isn’t as if I thought…” Hot color flushed her cheeks as she trailed off.
It occurred to Shane that this was the longest conversation he’d ever had with Isabel. He was starting to understand why all the management staff remarked on her winning personality as often as they praised her high level of customer service. She had a knack for drawing people in and making them like her.
“I imagine you have a lot of women hitting on you,” she prompted when he declined to venture into the silence building between them. “After all, you’re handsome, intelligent and successful.”
“Not as many women as you think,” he lied, easing her tension with a dry smile. “I work too much and play too little. Friends assure me I will end up a crusty old bachelor if I keep going like this.”
Why was he discussing his personal life with a member of his staff? Because this slender redhead roused all sorts of unprofessional impulses.
“All it will take is the right woman.”
He doubted that was true. “Spoken like a true romantic.”
“You say ‘romantic’ like it’s a dirty word.”
He used his thumb to gesture at his chest. “Crusty old bachelor.”
“You don’t believe in romance?”
He was an emo
tionally shuttered workaholic. “Let’s just say I don’t have time for it.”
“But do you believe in it?” she persisted, mesmerizing him with the specks of green shimmering in her hazel eyes.
“No.”
The single, blunt syllable was meant to shut down the conversation. To his dismay, he underestimated the petite idealist. She grinned at him, her challenging smirk a too-late warning that he’d blundered into quicksand.
Before he could elaborate or explain, her smartphone buzzed. She shifted her attention to the screen and sighed.
“The Jamisons’ wedding party has started to arrive early and we’re not quite ready for them. I have to go. See you at eight.” And then she was speeding off, her long strides taking her arresting presence beyond his reach.
In the back of his mind, a voice reminded Shane why he avoided engaging with this woman. All the information he gleaned about her from his management staff said she excelled at her job because she had a knack for reading people and providing them an experience they didn’t even realize they wanted. Returning guests flocked to her concierge desk, knowing anything Isabel planned for them would be the perfect experience.
Alone with his thoughts, Shane found himself needing a bracing hit of brisk mountain air. He turned in the opposite direction and headed for a side door that led to the lower terrace. That the encounter had not gone his way didn’t surprise Shane. Isabel’s quick mind, passionate nature and eloquence were more than a match for his dogged determination and disciplined pragmatism.
He glanced at his watch as a cool fall breeze smacked his overheated face. He had four hours until their next meeting. Barely enough time for him to shore up his defenses. One thing was for certain, he needed his wits about him when dealing with Isabel Withers.
Copyright © 2019 by Harlequin Books S.A.
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Karen Booth for her contribution to the Dynasties: Secrets of the A-List miniseries.
ISBN-13: 9781488046551
Tempted by Scandal
Copyright © 2019 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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